


Hunger

by lecygne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dominant Castiel, M/M, Post-Season/Series 08 Finale, Smut, Submissive Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-09-25
Packaged: 2017-12-27 14:52:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lecygne/pseuds/lecygne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel adjusts to being human, and all of our complicated emotions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> Not edited, all mistakes are my own.

There were lots of things that were new to being human; sleeping, eating, pain. Castiel had expected such things, and others, as he adjusted to his new life. One thing he was not prepared for was emotions. He had felt things in Heaven, but mostly they were commands up until the one where he had to pull a righteous man out of Hell. He had followed blindly and without choice, until the day he met the Winchesters. The dull throbbing in his chest whenever they were in danger and needed his help, the bond they shared that made Castiel go rogue, he knew it was significant if it was enough to override base programming from God. He was definitely not ready or expecting what happened when became human.

It was like they were being held back by a dam, and his fall from Heaven caused it to come crumbling down, waves of emotions rolling over him so intensely he thought he would drown in them. It was so much more than just happy and sad; it was elation, depression, fear, anguish, hopefulness, love and hunger. It was the hunger that shocked Castiel the most; the hunger to grab Dean Winchester by his pretty little jacket and taste the inside of his mouth.

_Is this how humans feel all the time?_ Castiel thought to himself. No wonder people ran from them so often. The intensity of them all was terrifying, some considerably more than others.

And that’s why, three days after Castiel had arrived at the Men of Letters bunker, he had not emerged from his room. (Thankfulness, another raw and too big emotion Castiel felt when he realized the Dean and Sam had thought enough about him to prepare a room.)

Sam had been nice to him, brought him food and offered to talk. When Cas remained quiet Sam simply offered a gentle smile and returned to his work.

Dean had been much more of a nuisance. His presence was constant and it was unnerving Castiel more and more each day. He was nesting in Cas’ room, bringing snacks and DVDs to watch on the laptop Dean had bought for him to “google” things, whatever that meant. It made Cas anxious having Dean around all day while he was trying to sort out why he wanted to rake his nails down Dean’s naked body, and Dean was more than annoyed that Cas kept trying to dodge his questions.

“You can’t keep brushing me off and shutting me out forever, Cas,” Dean leaned himself against the closed door of Castiel’s room, making the smaller man jump. He had been engrossed in an article on Wikipedia about Mack & Mable, thinking that musicals had a very endearing way of helping characters come to cathartic revelations. That train of thought was derailing quickly though as he looked up back to Dean nervously.

“I’m just here to help Cas, now tell me what’s wrong.” Deans voice was sincere and gentle, he eyes searching Castiel’s for any hint of a way to help him. Cas sighed gently, the urge to push Dean away was quickly being overwhelmed by urge to push him against the wall and mash as much of their skin together as he could.

“I’m having a hard time with…” Cas trailed off and gave Dean a once over, a blush rising in his cheeks. “Feelings.”

“Feelings?” Dean smirked a bit. This was probably Sam’s division, but he cared about Castiel and he wanted to do whatever he could to ease him into being human, “What about them?”

Castiel stood up and paced the length of the small room slowly, “There’s just so many of them, and they’re so strong.” Dean took the in the sight of the man before him. He wouldn’t leave the bunker, so he had no new clothes. His iconic trench coat was hanging, shredded and dirty, in the closet and Dean had put piles of his own clothing out for him instead. They were too big for Castiel, a pair of soft grey sweat pants riding low on his hips, covered by Dean’s favorite green plaid button up draped over the lithe frame.

“Any in particular?” Dean managed to focus on Castiel’s words rather than the warm feeling he got when he saw him in his own clothing. The question made Cas stop in his tracks, turning towards Dean and furrowing his brow.

“Just one at the moment.”

The way Castiel was looking at him made Dean’s skin tingle, shift from foot to foot as if someone had him under a microscope. He wondered for a moment if Cas had caught him looking a little too long at the low waist of his pants.

“Which one?”

“I think it can best be described as,” Cas took a moment to find the right word, taking a step forward and moving into Deans personal space.

“Desire.”

Deans breathing was shallow as he watched Castiel. His gaze was locked into the wide blue eyes that were closer than he remembered a few moments before. He tried to take a step back, instead bumping against the wall he forgot he was already leaning on.

Castiel’s skin was hot as he cornered Dean, staring into him intensely. The way the larger man was fumbling around his words and breathing unevenly made Castiel feel powerful for the first time since the fall. He liked it.

“Uh, what kind of, I mean, desire for what? Who? Um,” This felt like something out of one of Deans deeper, less thought about fantasies. He had always pushed aside thoughts of mashing his body against Castiel’s, there was always work to be done. However, Deans fantasies usually included him being much more suave and in control, and definitely the first one to make the move. He never pictured himself, shaking and flushing and stuttering, pinned against a wall while Cas eye-fucked him with great sincerity.

“You.”

Castiel grabbed fistfuls of Deans leather jacket, pulling him down and kissing him roughly. Dean was wide eyed for a moment, the movements catching him off balance at first. His mind had not caught up to what was happening until he registered the chaste and tight-lipped kiss he was engaged in. It took him all of about one second to decide that this was exactly what he had wanted (and he could deal with consequences later) and began to kiss back, softening their kiss and parting his mouth just a little, his tongue peeking out to lick oh-so-softly  at Castiel’s lips.

That was all the affirmation Castiel needed, apparently. His hands still gripping Deans jacket, pushed him back against the wall roughly and he closed the gap between them quickly, crushing his body against Deans and digging his hips into him. Dean let out a small groan which Castiel quickly took advantage of, shoving his tongue into his mouth and assaulting his tongue. They stayed that way for a moment, their mouths locked and tongues swirling against each other’s, taking turns exploring the others mouth. Castiel’s pants were deviously thin and Dean could feel the outline of his cock quite clearly as he was grinding against the bulge in Dean’s jeans.

Castiel kissed him greedily, taking his weight off only to begin stripping Dean almost savagely. It had never bothered Cas before that Dean wore so many shirts, the thought had never occurred to him that it would impact his life in any way. Currently, however, Castiel was immensely annoyed with the amount of shirts he had to rip away from Dean’s body. First the jacket which he yanked off his arms and tossed somewhere, only to find an open button-up shirt underneath. Castiel attached his mouth to Deans neck, sucking and biting him aggressively as he tossed the second shirt away as well. He bit down extra hard, causing Dean to suck in a breath and whimper before Cas pulled his lips away, grabbing the bottom of the Henley and undershirt, pulling them up and over Dean’s head.

“That’s was for wearing so many damned shirts.” Castiel admired his handy work for a moment, a splotch of red on Deans neck that he was sure would be around for a few days.

“Noted.”

Dean took the opportunity to hastily unbutton Castiel’s shirt while the former angel seemed to be stuck eyeing his half naked body. Dean heard the fabric fall to the ground, but his eyes had fluttered closed and his head rolled back when he felt Cas’ hand squeeze his erection through his jeans.

“Cas…” The name was breathy and weak off Deans lips, but it set Castiel’s skin on fire, an electric rush that pooled at the base of his stomach, only building his hunger. He trailed his lips up Deans collarbone, flicking his tongue against his neck until he found a sensitive spot behind Deans ear and tonguing it relentlessly. Deans knees were shaking and Cas could feel him turning to jello beneath his touch and it was only escalating his desire.

Castiel pulled away suddenly, eliciting a whimper from his partner.

“Don’t worry, I’m hardly done with you,” Castiel’s voice was raspy and his eyes were drilling into Deans so intensely all he could do was lick his lips in anticipation.

Cas slipped his fingers into the belt loop of his jeans and pulled Dean off the wall and back against Cas’ own body. Dean wondered briefly if Cas had retained any of his angelic strength or if he was really just putty in his hands, waiting to be touched and molded and _so_ much more.

Dean had been pushed down into the bed, Castiel wasting no time in climbing on top of him, straddling him for a moment and taking in the sight before him. There were lots of things Dean could’ve said in that moment. He wanted to tell Cas he was beautiful, that he loved him, that he needed him. Instead, he watched as Cas hastily undid his belt and button of his jeans, sliding the zipper down and making Dean groan and buck up against him. He felt Cas get off of him for a moment and pulling his jeans and boxers off in one motion, Deans erection springing out and flopping back against his belly, twitching and throbbing.

Cas was still standing, looking down at Dean and drinking in the sight. He was breathing raggedly, skin flushed red and a light sheen of sweat was starting to appear, making his skin look glossy and tantalizing. A low groan from Dean snapped Castiel out of his reverie for a moment.

“Now now, patience is a virtue after all.” He trailed one of his fingers down Deans exquisitely chiseled chest and abs, down the soft brown curls of his pelvis and then teasingly up the length of his cock.

“I always did picture you as a tease,” Dean growled lowly, arching his body against the only touch Cas would give him.

“When have I ever denied you anything?” Castiel smirked, wondering if Dean would ask about the statement later when they were having a “serious talk about their relationship.” He didn’t really have time to think about that now, when the subject of it was writhing and whimpering beneath him right now, begging him to be touched.

Cas moved back onto the bed, sliding a knee in between Deans and settling between his legs. He kept his eyes locked onto Deans face, studying the way it moved when Cas licked behind his knee, running his hand up this thigh. It was beautiful to watch him get lost in the pleasure and Cas was sure he could get addicted to the sight. He moved forward, brushing his stubble against the V of Deans pelvis, so close he could feel the heat of his cock near his cheek.

“Cas… please…” Dean was actually begging now, reaching his hands down to grab at the man’s hair, but to no avail. Cas pulled away, grabbed Deans wrists in his hands and pinned them to his sides.

“Don’t rush me.”

It made Dean shiver, goose bumps rising across his entire body. He lifted his head, looking down at the sight below him. Castiels eyes were wild and savage, locked onto Dean’s face. They stared at each other for a moment until Cas turn his head to side slightly, his soft pink tongue flicking across the tip of his cock. Dean sucked in a breath, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets beneath him and willing himself to stay still.

Cas must have approved of Deans compliance and was quickly rewarded with his warm mouth pressed against the head. Dean could already feel precum being smeared across Castiels lips and groaned softly when he watched Cas lick it up. Dean was panting and moaning softly, the teasing was going to drive him mad and he might not be able to hold himself back much longer.

Lucky for him, he didn’t need to. Castiel parted his lips and swallowed Dean’s cock. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he felt the warm velvet of Cas’ mouth push further down his cock. He let his eyes roll back into his head and arched himself into the feeling, a long moan escaping his lips as Cas settled into a rhythm.

Castiel himself felt like he was in heaven. He never took his eyes off of Deans face, relishing the sights and sounds as a reward for his actions. His tongue swirled around the hot hit, tracing the ridges and memorizing as much as could with his lips alone.

He could tell Dean wouldn’t last much longer at this rate and pulled away, earning a whimper in response.  Green eyes snapped open and looked up as Castiel pushed the sweatpants off his hips, his own erection already gleaming with precum.

There was a second when Castiel wasn’t sure how to proceed. He had watched the Pizza Man do some interesting things with his female counterpart, but he hadn’t quite researched what he was supposed to do with another man. Dean was in no state to be helpful either. He just kept moan and writhing and being _delicious,_ so it was up to Cas to be creative.

_Well,_ he thought, _Let’s try instinct._

He settled between Dean’s knees again, this time stretching his body out against the one beneath him. Cas adjusted himself, angling his hips just right so that their cocks slid against each other and earning a moan of approval from Dean. He held himself up just above Deans body and began to thrust.

As it turned out, that’s all it took for both of them to completely lose all resolve. Dean bucked back against Castiel, his hands coming off the bed to grab at his hips, pulling him down hard. Castiel moaned loudly, the first sense of touch nearly throwing him overboard already. He dipped his head, attacking Deans neck with kisses and licks and bites as if he was determined to keep Dean in turtleneck for a week.

They thrust and grinded against each other until Dean tossed his head back, his hands gripping Castiel’s waist tightly and letting his name tumble from his lips as his body went rigid, thick spurts of cum shooting across his belly and smearing against Cas’ skin, coming harder than he ever had before. Castiel was two quick thrusts behind before he slammed against Dean one last time, body shuddering as he achieved orgasm, crying out loudly before collapsing on top of him.

 They lay their silently for a moment enjoying their post-orgasm haze. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel and rolling them gently onto their sides, nuzzling him and planting gentle kisses up his neck until they were eye to eye. Castiel blushed and tried to duck away, going from wanton and brazen back to the shy and awkward man Dean remembered, and it made him chuckle as he pressed his lips gently to his forehead.

“We need to work on your communication skills.” 


End file.
